“Did she settle in?” Ethan asked as Ruth came down the stairs from tucking Penny in.
“She crashed soon after her head hit the pillow, but that’s no surprise. It’s been a long day.”
True to his word, he had swung by after dinner and given the three of them a ride in his truck to the ridge. Penny had been happy to meet up with her friends there, and Ruth had been thrilled to have entertainment of her own as she and Ethan sat and watched from a blanket. Overhead, fireworks sizzled and exploded in the sky. Back on solid ground, Ruth experienced a few thrilling tremors of her own as Ethan reached across the blanket and covered her hand with his. And when the temperature began to drop quickly on the open hill, he was quick to get his denim jacket from the truck and slide it over her shoulders.
Don’t fall too fast, Ruth kept warning herself as the night went on. You don’t know him all that well.
Which wasn’t entirely true, as she had known him for more than fifteen years. And just as she knew there was something seriously off-balance about the man who’d come to her home last night, she knew that Ethan Starr was a good-hearted man with two boots on solid ground.
After the fireworks, when he pulled up in front of their house, she didn’t hesitate to invite him in. Penny changed into her pajamas and came downstairs with a collection of books, from which Ethan performed Green Eggs and Ham, leaving them all in stitches. Penny’s father, Sterling, could be a performer too, though he didn’t allow himself to go to the silly places that eight-year-olds enjoyed.
“You’re good with kids,” she said. “I’m surprised you don’t have any of your own.”
He shrugged. “I’m not dead yet.”
She smiled down at him, loving the light in his eyes. Nope, definitely not dead. “Thanks for doing the story tonight. It’s been a long day, and I didn’t sleep last night.”
“That’s no good.”
“After I saw him in the street, I didn’t feel safe. I was afraid to close my eyes.”
“Where did he come from? Can you show me?”
“The park across the street.” She unlocked the door to the porch. “You can see it from out here.”
The screened-in porch was cooler than the house, the night air punctuated by the hoot of an owl and the rumble of the neighbors’ air conditioners. “He emerged from those tall trees, the cedars that border the park.”
“Right across the street? This guy’s brazen. No wonder you were scared.”
The darkness seemed to have black pockets of unidentifiable hazards. He could be hiding anywhere, under the Hendersons’ canoe or behind a bush in the park. She turned away with a shiver. “It was a relief when the sheriff came out, but I can’t expect to have cops guarding my house every night. What if he comes back?”
He looked over at the porch swing, then at the outdoor sofa with its blue-and-green-striped cushions. “I guess I know where I’m sleeping tonight.”
“Ethan, really, that’s nice of you, but—”
“It’s what friends do for friends in these parts. You said it yourself: you were too afraid to close your eyes. And he could come back. And if he does, I’m your first line of defense. Guy like that isn’t going to mess with me. Predators prey on fear. A woman alone, a kid in the house.”
The thought of having him here in her home filled her with relief and excitement, and she honestly didn’t know which emotion was stronger. “I’d owe you, big-time.”
He smiled and raked his hair back. “I’d settle for one of those cupcakes you baked today. Or actually, a real date. I’ve got this invite to the Dillinger wedding.”
“Colton and Sabrina?”
“Are you already going?”
“No, I don’t know them that well. But I’ve heard about it. Talk around town.”
“Colton’s a friend. I might actually enjoy the festivities with you there. Want to be my plus-one?”
A dreamlike image of dancing in Ethan’s arms came to mind, sweet and ethereal. “I’d love to. My first big event back in town.” She yawned. “Let me get you a blanket. I don’t know how comfortable this couch is. Do you want a sleeping bag?”
“A sheet and a pillow would do it.”
“Or maybe the couch inside?”
“This is better. I like the fresh air, and I don’t want Penny to hear me snoring when she comes down for her morning cereal.”
“Penny . . . I didn’t think about that. It can be traumatizing for a kid when a parent begins dating.”
He gave a skeptical look, crinkles forming at the edges of his eyes. “I think she’ll hold up just fine, Dr. Ruth.”
She brought him sheets and a blanket, then went upstairs to get ready for bed. She was slipping on her nightgown when she realized he needed a pillow. She grabbed two from her bed and took them downstairs.
“Ethan?” She called from the open screen door. “Are you awake?”
“Sure thing.”
Pillows clutched to her chest, she stepped onto the screened-in porch and felt her eyes grow wide at the sight of him, bare-chested, on her couch. His thick biceps and broad chest tapered down to a narrow waist. She longed to run her hand along the line of hair that began below his navel and ran down into his jeans. Damn, but he looked good. Better than her teenaged imaginings.
“How’s the couch?” she asked.
“Pretty comfortable.” He patted a spot beside him. “Give it a try.”
As if she hadn’t sat on that thing a dozen times, she settled in beside him, drawn to him. “I brought you pillows.”
“Thanks.” He took them and tossed them on the sofa behind her, his eyes sweeping over her in appreciation. “That’s a nice nightgown.”
She looked down, suddenly aware of the transparency of the cool summer cotton revealing the pink, round nipples of her breasts, the flare of her collarbones, the dark triangle at the juncture of her legs. “That’s a summer nightgown for you,” she said. “Might as well be naked.”
“Might as well.” He leaned in with the clear intention of a kiss, and realizing that she wanted more, so much more, she closed her eyes and opened herself to him, body and soul. Their kissing was accompanied by exploring hands, tentative at first, and then more confident, more teasing. She thrilled to the hard planes and edges of the muscle and bone beneath his skin, while his fingertips left a trail of fire that swept through her skin and licked at long-buried desire.
This is how it’s meant to be, she thought as he moved over her, the last vestiges of clothing long abandoned. This is how it feels to make love, to be loved.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, holding himself tight above her. “I mean, the neighbors . . .”
“Are asleep with their air conditioners humming,” she said. Her conscious mind told her it was a bit brazen, but the half-wall of the porch and the surrounding shrubs provided enough privacy in the night.
“Are you really ready for this? We could wait.”